Page 27 of The Billionaire Experience

“Hello.” He greeted her flatly. “Reagan. My sister, Jaylyn. Jaylyn, my handywoman, Reagan.”

“Hi,” Reagan said. Her spine was snapped straight, her hands folded in her lap.

What terrible fucking timing.

“What are you doing here?” he asked Jaylyn.

“I live here.”

“No. I live here. You’re crashing.”

She sent him a withering glare that was as effective as it had been when she was a sulking teenager: not at all.

“Chloe is coming out with me. She said I could stay with her tonight, so I came back to pack a bag. I thought you were writing.”

“I should be going.” Reagan smoothed her hands down her jeans as she stood. She sidestepped Brody to retrieve her jacket from the kitchen.

Oh, hell no. No way was he letting his sister scare Reagan away. He followed, and when he reached her asked, “What about your ice cream?”

Her pupils darkened in response. He thought he’d picked up attraction from her earlier, but now he was sure. He wanted her, and she wanted him too. If it wasn’t for the intrusion, he might’ve had her halfway naked.

“Just so you know, he’s easily distracted,” Jaylyn told Reagan. “And he has to finish this book. He missed one deadline already.”

He glared at his sister.

“It’s fine.” Reagan settled a hand over his heart as if she sensed a pending explosion. “I’ll be back. We did make a deal. How’s tomorrow sound?”

“What deal?” Jaylyn asked.

“None of your business,” he snapped.

Reagan slipped her hand from his chest and addressed his sister directly. “Your brother hired me to help with repairs that are outside of his expertise. You know, so he doesn’t miss that deadline you mentioned.”

“Are you insane?” Jaylyn aimed that question at him. “You’re supposed to be focusing on what matters, not playing house with the handywoman.”

Face hot with anger, he sucked in a breath to shout what, he had no idea, but Jaylyn had already breezed past him and down the hallway. Her storming off preceded a door slam worthy of a thirteen-year-old.

“You matter,” he said to Reagan. “Don’t pay attention to her bullshit.”

She put her hand on his chest again and smiled gently. “I appreciate that.”

“What the fuck was that about?” He wasn’t sure who he was directing that question to—himself, Reagan, or God Himself. “I’m sorry about her. She’s—” He lifted his hand and dropped it, unable to explain away Jaylyn’s overreaction. “I don’t know what her problem is.”

“You should talk to her.”

“Are you kidding me? After that brat move she can sulk by herself.”

“Sounds like her feelings are hurt. Maybe something happened tonight—maybe some guy was being a dick and she ran home hoping you’d protect her and instead found you preoccupied with me.”

His lips pulled into a deep frown as he considered that possibility. “I’d rather be preoccupied with you.”

Reagan patted his chest, exhibiting more patience than he was capable of at the moment. “Women are complicated. I didn’t take what she said personally. You shouldn’t either. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Okay.” He pressed a final kiss to Reagan’s lips, wanting nothing more than to pull her close and keep it going until they were both panting with need. But. Jaylyn was in her room, majorly cramping his style.

He walked Reagan to the door, albeit reluctantly. If she was right, and Jaylyn had been hurt by a random guy at a club, Brody wouldn’t let her sob into her pillow alone.

“Thanks for the pizza.” With a breezy smile, Reagan exited via the screen door and left him standing at the threshold. Then she climbed into her truck and drove away.

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